


just let it knock you down

by Anonymous



Series: it's inevitable, baby [3]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Commitment Kink, M/M, also: hand jobs, proposal, sappy dumb shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:53:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25730128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Lando has the overwhelming feeling Max is about to suggest something stupid. It’s some kind of tension, like there’s an idea fighting its way out of him and Lando can almost see it looming, like a balloon steadily inflating with the pressure of Max trying not to say it already.“Alright,” he says, lying back across Max’s lap and reaching a hand up to cup his chin, make Max look down at him. “What is it?”
Relationships: Lando Norris/Max Verstappen
Series: it's inevitable, baby [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861756
Comments: 21
Kudos: 115
Collections: Anonymous





	just let it knock you down

Lando has the overwhelming feeling Max is about to suggest something stupid. It’s some kind of tension, like there’s an idea fighting its way out of him and Lando can almost see it looming, like a balloon steadily inflating with the pressure of Max trying not to say it already.

“Alright,” he says, lying back across Max’s lap and reaching a hand up to cup his chin, make Max look down at him. “What is it?”

Max curls one arm under Lando’s shoulders, slides the other under his knees and Lando doesn’t mind being picked up, although Max makes no effort to move them more. He shrugs before speaking, jostling Lando, “I love you.”

That’s not new information, Max has been in love with him for years. “Yeah. And?”

“I don’t want to be with anyone else, you know?” 

Lando shifts a bit, tucks himself against Max, almost and lets Max half-cradle him closer, pulls on the string of Max’s hoodie when he replies. “Ok. We pretty much don’t fuck other people, though.”

There’s a bit of vagueness about it, which Lando likes to think of as The Dilara Exception (now past tense) because until this year they’d never really _talked_ through what they want from each other. But Lando’s happy enough skipping awkward bullshit with anyone else in favour of getting Max _all over_ him.

Max grabs Lando’s left hand, circles the finger that still has a green-tinged tip, varnish not completely chipped off yet, with his own index finger. “This might be too much. But things are so weird now. And I know _I_ want it - let’s get married.”

“What?” Lando’s heart feels like it’s fluttering - this has to be a weird dream, looking at his own hand in Max’s and _wanting_ it. 

“I’m serious. Nothing big - just us, you can wear whatever you want.” Lando makes the mistake of looking away from their hands and into Max’s eyes and feels something lurch dangerously in his chest, like taking a fast corner.

He takes a breath, curls his fingers round Max’s, over his knuckles. “What are we gonna tell people?”

Max shrugs, smiling in the crocodile, predator way he sometimes does when he _knows_ Lando’s already going along with whatever-the-fuck. “We don’t. Fuck them.”

Lando feels himself nodding, knowing he’d made the decision before Max even asked but. Someone has to be the voice of reason in each of their conversations and it seems like it’s his turn, even if his tone comes out too fond to pretend he’s not onboard already. “So why bother? If it’s just for us. You know I love you.”

“That’s like asking why we fuck, if we’re not filming it?” Max’s whole face is lit up, eyes sparkling. “Because it feels nice, why not.”

Lando hums, squeezes Max’s hand. “Ok. I want a ring.” It’s not like Max isn’t rich, for fuck’s sake and anyway, he loves buying Lando shit.

“Yeah?” Max sounds breathily overwhelmed, voice high and the arm under Lando’s shoulders tensing, bringing him closer. Lando quite likes being caringly manhandled but suddenly feels like he wants some agency in this, to reassure Max and maybe himself, a bit, too.

He shifts round, moving to straddle Max’s lap and trying not to blush too much when their eyes meet, Max already plenty pink for the both of them. “Yeah. And flowers.”

Lando’s too embarrassed by asking for that to actually look at Max anymore, so kisses him instead, lets Max put his hands on Lando’s arse and move him closer, not exactly grinding but just very pressed against each other, smiling into the kiss. He’s pretty good at asking for what he wants - and Max unfailingly gives him it - but sometimes it’s just _too much,_ even in his own head.

They break apart and Lando hooks his head over Max’s shoulder, resting against him. “And you’re not allowed to wear a cap. Or team gear.”

“Wow, fussy.” Max sounds pleased, though, thumbs rubbing circles against Lando’s hips, through his shorts.

“No champagne, that’s for races. And it’s gross-” Max cuts him off with a kiss, pulling Lando round to get him where Max can half-hold him up, bending Lando back in a romantic dip, like dancing.

“I didn’t know you were such a - what’s the word? Like a bride monster.” Max is giggling, kissing at Lando’s neck and jaw, “It’s ok, I like you wanting it - things.”

Lando lets him get on with lavishing him with attention for a few moments, “Mmm, like your dick.”

“You always want that.” Max kisses him again, gentle. “What flowers?” 

Lando raises an eyebrow at him, he hadn’t realised he had to get the order in _immediately._ “I dunno - like… like blue ones? With, uhm, leafy bits? Maybe in a crown?”

Max nods, seriously and Lando feels his cock twitch where it’s pressed against Lando’s thigh. “Keep talking.”

“Are you seriously getting turned on by me talking about flowers?” Max grins at him, grinds them together and Lando can feel himself turning crimson even if he can’t stop smiling.

“Yeah. It’s hot, you imagining our wedding.” Max genuinely sounds a bit wrecked already and Lando resists the urge to laugh at him because now _that’s_ turning _him_ on, too. Fuck’s sake. 

“You’re such a freak. I’m gonna wear the white hoodie - the one you liked in Austin,” Max nods approvingly, kisses Lando’s collarbone through his t-shirt. “And yeah, I want blue flowers, like a bunch or whatever to hold and some, I don’t know, in my hair? Nothing major. Where are we gonna do it, like, Las Vegas?”

Max snorts, “Gross, no. I’m not Daniel. Why not here?” Lando shakes his head, someone would _definitely_ find out, it’s not like they’ve got especially anonymous names. 

“Monaco? I bet people get secret-married there all the time.” Max hums and puts his hands up the back of Lando’s t-shirt, palms flat against his waist, pulling him down into his lap again and it really _is_ turning Max on that Lando’s talking about them getting married, the massive idiot. “Then we can just chill at your place after and no one needs to know why.” 

Max closes his eyes for a second and Lando can’t help kissing him again, likes how badly Max is coming apart just at the idea of doing this, at making Lando fantasise about it. “If you want, you can do the - like, carry me over the doorway or whatever.”

“God, yes.” Max actually moans, head tipping back against the sofa. “Fuck, I just. Carry on.”

Lando considers him for a second, Max’s chin tipped up to make his neck a line to where he’s breathing in shallow pants. Broad shoulders are tense under his fingers, Max almost shivery where Lando’s stroking lightly up his neck, to the sensitive skin behind his ears. There’s a light coating of stubble over his skin, covering the irritation he always gets from wearing a helmet and Max makes a small, tight noise in his throat when Lando’s fingers rub over his adam’s apple, flushing pink like Lando’s touch is burning him.

“ _Max._ ” He’s so fucking ridiculous and it turns Lando’s insides to total goo. “We can have a lazy morning, I’ll suck you off on the balcony and then you can wash my hair in the shower, maybe I’ll let you fuck me if you can’t wait until later-”

“And you’ll want it, you always do if we’re in the shower and then we’re _always_ late-” Lando shushes him because well, that’s probably true but Max shouldn’t be so hot when he’s naked and touching Lando under the spray, bodies warm and wet and sexy. 

“We can get breakfast, then just walk there - wherever you want but I kind of just want to do it in the office, so no one can ask anything or see or whatever.” Max whines, tugs Lando’s hips so that Max’s dick is against the curve of his arse and feeling how desperate Max is about the idea of fucking _doing admin_ is, sadly, doing all kind of things for Lando. 

“I’m gonna wear the hoodie - and shorts, we should do it in summer, you can just wear a shirt.” Lando leans forward, kisses Max’s neck instead of just stroking him, at the same time as grinding down on his cock because _fuck,_ if he can make Max come like this that’s the hottest fucking thing in the world. “I don’t care who we get as witnesses, we’ll just find some people in a cafe or something, hope they’re not F1 fans. And I’ll keep my hood up, so you can’t see the flowers.”

“Fuck, god - like, uh - jesus christ, Lando. Like girls wear? The white thing.” Losing the ability to speak English is definitely a sign Max is close to the edge, gripping Lando’s hips hard to force him down on his own thighs. 

“A veil? Ok, yeah - wait, not a shirt, you should wear a hoodie too, this one,” Max swallows, whining as Lando drags a hand down his chest, mauling the zipper down a bit and exposing Max's pale skin between the grey fabric, “so it’s soft, when I press up against you.”

Lando is deliberately making his voice breathy, now, speaking clearly so Max’s brain gets what he’s saying even through the mangle of being this turned on. “I want to stand close, while we say it, have my head on your shoulder,” he bends down, resting on Max and forcing him to lie back, let Lando rub against him better until Max’s head is on the back of the sofa again, moaning. “Then when we kiss, you can push my hood down, like it’s special.”

He’s actually got very limited knowledge of weddings and has never really fantasised about one before, ever. So it’s just as well Max seems way too far gone to actually care about the detail. “Then we go back to yours, you can carry me in - to the bed, cus I’ll be so fucking horny for you. I’m gonna want it so badly.”

Lando knows this is likely to be the blinder, from the way Max has reacted all this time but there’s something _so_ satisfyingly hot about the way he grabs at Lando, shakes and falls apart, hips jerking, at “I can’t wait to get fucked by my husband.”

Max stays prone, boneless and panting, for what feels like ages. His hands are gentle on Lando’s upper arms, stroking down to his thighs and Max’s abs are trembling, when Lando runs a palm down them, sensitive and vulnerable in that post-orgasmic way. Lando kisses his neck, lets Max gently bring their mouths together and whines when Max won’t let him use tongue because dammit, _he’s_ still turned on. 

The message seems to come across because Max’s hand finds its way into Lando’s shorts, makes him realise how hard he is, “Fuck - you talk to me, it’s only fair.”

“Mm, Lando-” Max sounds almost sleepy, uses his other hand to coax Lando’s head down onto his shoulder, fingers threaded through his hair while his hand’s working Lando’s dick _so_ right. “You’re gonna look so hot, so cute, I can’t wait for you to be all mine.”

Lando whines because as easy as he finds Max to play, he’s just as dumb for compliments and Max always sounds so much like he means it. “I’m going to fuck you so nicely, gonna finger you the way you like-” it’s definitely cheating for Max to grab his ass at the same time as speeding up the hand on Lando’s cock, “I’m gonna see how many times I can make you come, keep you in my bed and show you how much I fucking want you, only you, forever.”

“Nnnghf,” It’s not Lando’s most eloquent reply, even for him but he’s got his head thrown back and his fingers clenched in Max’s shirt and every touch on his dick feels perfect because Max knows how to get him off better than he probably does, at this point. “Fuck - _fuck,_ I love you.”

When he opens his eyes, pushing himself up on his knees so they’re not so squashed against each other, Max is licking Lando’s spunk off his own fingers and looking way too pleased with himself. “It’ll be so good, doing that for real.”

Lando can’t quite believe they’ve just had like, weird commitment roleplay sex but on the other hand, everything they do is pretty weird really. “Yeah. I want to - and I was serious about the ring.”

Max picks up Lando’s left hand, kisses the third finger like a promise, “I know.”

  
  



End file.
